


Not Another Teen Werewolf

by broadlicnic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack, F/M, Humour, M/M, Multi, all inspired by a dumb photoshop i made, also despite the title they're not werewolves in this fic, chris argent is the stifler's mom of this fic, incredibly dumb teen sex comedy au, utter crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:49:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadlicnic/pseuds/broadlicnic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's senior year at Beacon Hills High, and Scott McCall is on a mission, to get his best bud Stiles laid before graduation. And Scott has the perfect candidate, bad boy college sophomore Derek Hale. He enlists the help of genius Lydia Martin, and his girlfriend Allison, to make Stiles seem smart and badass enough for Derek, not knowing that Derek is already into Stiles just the way he is.</p><p>Isaac Lahey has no problem taking self-defence lessons from a girl. The problem is, the girl's father is the hottest DILF Isaac has ever seen.</p><p>Shy new girl Kira Yukimura has the biggest crush on Scott McCall, but his girlfriend is one of the hottest scariest people in school. But when Scott finds out that Derek Hale tutors her, she finally has an excuse to hang out with him.</p><p>AKA Teen Wolf as a teen sex comedy. I'm so sorry.</p><p>Inspired by this poster I photoshopped last year. http://checkeredshirtdance.tumblr.com/post/57001359792/ill-advised-reboots-teen-wolf-as-a-teen-sex</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I photoshopped a poster for Teen Wolf as a teen sex comedy last year, and since then, it keeps getting reblogged with people wanting fic. So I started fic. Oops.

"Senior year, bro!" Scott yelled down the hall. The crowds of Beacon Hills High parted as he made his way to Stiles' locker. Scott McCall was the Alpha of Beacon Hills, the first junior to ever be crowned Prom King (which may have in some part been down to his girlfriend, Allison, terrifying the senior class not to vote for their own), and now in senior year, he was the school's king.

That made Stiles the Prince, he guessed. Or maybe a Duke. Not that he wanted to be. He buried his head in his locker every time Scott's confidence grew beyond Stiles' comfort zone. Still, if he was Scott McCall, he'd feel pretty damn confident too. But he was Stiles Stilinski: the hyperactive, nerdy virgin who was only popular because of the company he kept.

Scott reached him and clapped a hand on his back.

"Hey man!" Scott grinned.

"Hey," Stiles said back, pulling a face at the mouldy sandwich that had been in his locker since the start of summer.

"So...?" Scott began, grin spread wide across his face. Stiles shrugged. "Lydia Martin!"

"What about her?" Stiles groaned.

"You guys did it this summer, right?"

"She's dating Aiden," Stiles said, and slammed his locker shut.

Scott broke into a run to catch up with Stiles' hurried pace down the hall. "You're kidding, right? Aiden? That guy has zero personality. At least Jackson had that whole mysterious orphan thing going for him."

"It's her choice, Scott."

"Fine, what about Danny?"

"He's been with Ethan all summer."

"Those twins," Scott shook his head, "stealing all your hotties."

"Don't let Allison hear you talking about people I could be but am not dating, like they're possessions, or she'll kick you in the face."

Scott sighed happily. "Yeah, she totally would."

Their economics classroom was almost full, so Stiles dropped his voice down low, their conversation lost amongst all the summer gossip. Stiles noticed Kira Yukimura trying to catch Scott's eye a few times, but Scott was lost in his Allison daydream.

"I don't get it," Stiles said. "Shouldn't being bi, like, double my chances of getting laid?"

"Dude, no-one's gonna want to have sex with you if you sound desperate. You need an angle. Look at Isaac," Scott said, gesturing to a girl twisting her fingers in his ever-present scarf. "He's got that whole tortured-but-cute vibe, and he's swimming in pussy."

"Never say that ever again," Stiles hissed, but Scott just laughed. He knew that being gross riled Stiles up all the time. "Anyway, I'm over it," Stiles shrugged. "I just want to get through this year and get into college."

"Not acceptable," Scott said. "I will make it my mission to make sure you get laid before graduation."

"How about you make it your mission to shut the hell up, McCall?" Coach Finstock yelled, and Stiles' head sunk into his textbook.

\---

Derek Hale wasn't expecting this.

When his criminology professor told him she'd scored him a work experience gig at the Sheriff's office, Derek thought he'd be, you know, actually solving crimes, not fetching coffee and filing. He felt ridiculous, shuffling through the station in his leather jacket to collect the lunch order. Still, the Sheriff seemed like a nice guy, and promised to take him on a ride-along for a low-profile case, if one of those ever happened in Beacon Hills. Just as Derek was hopping into his Camero for the run to Taco Bell, the Sheriff had called out "don't tell my son about this!"

Not that Derek would recognise his son, or anyone else in this god-forsaken town. It had been his mom who convinced him to move back home for college, after years of boarding school in New York with his sister Laura, and he'd spent the majority of his freshman year at BHU glaring at people until they left him alone.

Now he stood in the line at Taco Bell, repeating the station's order over in his head, and wishing he could be anywhere but this town. Then he heard the click of a camera phone.

\---

"Lydia friend-zoned you?" Isaac asked. "Dude, that's rough."

"She didn't friend-zone Stiles," Allison scowled, "she decided she only wanted to be friends. There's a difference."

"Sorry," Isaac cowered, because nobody messed with Allison Argent.

"I told you guys, it doesn't matter," Stiles sighed, drumming his fingers on the picnic table and very pointedly not looking in the direction of the twins making out with Lydia and Danny at another table. Where was Scott with their damn tacos already?

"Still, Isaac has a point," Allison continued. "It must be hard having the twins date both the people you like."

"It'd be less hard if you guys would stop talking about it," Stiles said, just as Scott pulled up on his bike.

"Dude!" Scott cried out, running to them even as he was taking his helmet off. He dumped the bag of food in Isaac's lap and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I found him."

"Found who?" Stiles asked.

Scott shoved the phone in his face. "A guy hotter than the flames of hell. I mean, I may not be gay, but even I'd do him."

Isaac leaned over Stiles' shoulder to also take in the smouldering, well-built guy with perfect stubble and form-fitting leather jacket. "Wow," he breathed.

"Down boy," Allison laughed, the whole group fully aware by now that to be Isaac's type, you just had to be alive.

"Yeah, this guy's for Stiles."

"Scott, no."

"Yes," Scott insisted. "This is the guy you're losing your virginity to."

\---

It wasn't the first time strangers had taken Derek's photo in this town. In the first year after the fire that almost killed his entire family, it was a daily occurrence. The newspapers papped him constantly, either for articles claiming he was a hero for rescuing his sister Cora, or the more conservative publications assuming his naturally brooding looks meant he was the arsonist. It was this attention that had Talia send him and Laura away in the first place, and he'd hoped the six year break had made people forget. The Hale fire certainly wasn't the biggest crime to hit Beacon Hills.

But apparently they hadn't forgotten, and that afternoon Derek slammed every filing cabinet drawer he came across. If Sheriff noticed, he didn't say anything, mostly because his son was currently in his office, yelling at him having seen the left over tacos in the trash. Derek wisely stayed hidden. The last thing he needed today was some bratty teenage boy blowing off at him for doing his damn job.

Derek was swinging on his jacket, ready to leave, when the Sheriff's son stumbled out of the office and straight into him.

"Holy god," the boy muttered, straightening himself. His eyes widened when he saw Derek's face. Great, another one who recognised him. "I-I have to go!" The boy stammered, and darted out of the door.

\---

Stiles pushed past Melissa without so much as a hello, and took Scott's stairs two at a time. His momentum was too fast carrying him through the bedroom door and he almost collapsed on Scott's bed, which Scott was sat on the edge of, lifting weights.

"You were right," Stiles puffed, out of breath.

"Of course," Scott nodded. "Why?"

"Taco Bell Guy!" Stiles cried, arms flailing. "Already I'm imagining positions."

"Alright!" Scott grinned. "I'll call the guys over tomorrow!"

"Guys? What guys?"

"Let's call them my makeover team," Scott said. "If you're gonna seduce a guy like that, you absolutely can't be yourself."


	2. Chapter 2

"That was Scott," Allison said, hanging up her cell phone. "Operation Taco Bell Guy is go."

"Ugh," Isaac groaned, adjusting his scarf in Allison's mirror. "Stilinski would never appreciate such a fine specimen as well as I would."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Please, it's only my respect for Scott and fear of you stopping me making a move right now." Isaac ran a finger over the tip of one of Allison's arrows. "You know, when you said you'd teach me self-defence, I didn't think weaponry would be involved."

"Leave them alone! I have Olympics trials next month, I don't need you screwing with my arrows," Allison snapped.

"There's something else I could be screwing with," Isaac grinned.

"I'm not sure I should be helping you," Allison joked. "People may need to escape you." But it was in jest, of course. Isaac was a tremendous flirt, but understood the meaning of the word 'no'. Unlike some of the other lacrosse jocks. Allison knew Isaac's reasons for needing self defence, and she wasn't about to bring it up now.

"Anyway," Isaac said, then cleared his throat. "How do we stop Stiles being the human embodiment of a hot mess and just make him hot?"

"Taco Bell Guy has to be college age, and he looks pretty brooding, so we need to, you know, stop Stiles being Stiles."

"Allison!" her dad called.

"In here!" Allison replied before her dad creaked her door open.

"Dinner's gonna..." he paused at the sight of Isaac, who was now perched on Allison's bed. "This isn't Scott."

"Dad, this is Isaac," Allison said. Isaac remained frozen in place.

"Of course," Mr Argent said. "You stayed with Melissa for a while."

Isaac nodded slowly.

"Okay...I'll leave you to...whatever it is you're doing."

Isaac was silent for a few moments after Mr Argent had backed out of Allison's bedroom, before he exploded, "your dad is such a DILF!"

"Excuse me!" Allison said with that terrifying tone of voice that reminded Isaac she could probably kill him. "What the hell is a DILF?"

"Dad I'd Like to Fuck," Isaac answered. "Jesus, did you see those eyes? And that v-neck shirt, I bet his chest is amazing."

"That's my dad!" Allison cried. "Stop being gross!"

"Sorry, but that's given me weeks of fantasy material. I'm picturing handcuffs."

Allison grabbed her bow, nocked an arrow, and pointed it in Isaac's direction. "Shut up, or I'll fire this arrow at your balls."

"Killjoy," Isaac groaned.

~o~

All Lydia Martin wanted was a bit of privacy. The twins did everything together, even sharing a bedroom at the age of eighteen. The only time they didn't stay in the same room as each other was when they were in the bathroom or having sex. They took all the same classes at school, and were going to the same college with the same major. Even now, as she lay on Aiden's bed, trying not to yawn as he kissed her neck, the bunk above them creaked with Ethan and Danny's own make out session.

Lydia loved Danny. They'd bonded a hell of a lot when Jackson ran off to London and dumped the two of them with a text message. But listening to the way his breath hitched as Ethan sucked on his nipple was too big a test on their friendship.

Blessedly, her phone buzzed and she fumbled for it on the mattress, letting Aiden continue kissing her neck, because at least he was entertaining himself. It was from Scott.

**help. need 2 get Stiles laid.**

Lydia tapped out a reply. **For the last time no.** She'd always liked Stiles, a lot more than she let on when she was dating Jackson, before Scott and Stiles were considered cool. But she just didn't like him that way.

**no. hot college guy. need 2 make Stiles smart.**

**Stiles is smart** , Lydia replied. Which was true. He was the only person in Beacon Hills who had a chance if taking Class Valedictorian from her.

**no. need 2 make him sound smart. not a goof.**

Scott had a point there. Once, Lydia had seen Stiles fall asleep, with a mouth full of curly fries. Scott had nudged him awake and Stiles had sputtered the half-chewed glob over a passing Coach Finstock's shoes.

"Get off me," Lydia demanded, shoving Aiden away. His eyes were wild with desire. For some reason, he loved it when Lydia was dismissive. She stood, smoothing out her skirt and pulling her collar up to hide the hickey Aiden had left. Such a boy. "Come to my place tonight," she said, her heels clicking across the twins' wooden floor. "Alone," she added, as a shirtless Danny waved her goodbye.

~o~

Sheriff Stilinski was at once fiercely proud of and deeply embarrassed about his son, Derek found. While sheepishly clearing away Taco Bell bags, Sheriff mentioned things like "complete lack of balance" and "honour roll" but Derek was only half listening, still remembering a face full of hair that was just growing out of a buzz cut, full lips parted in surprise, and wide Bambi eyes. Oh god, no. This was not happening to him. The kid was a goof, a goof with an obsession with healthy eating, a goof still in high school, and the goof son of the Sheriff.

Derek was so screwed.

~o~

"You told Lydia?" Stiles exploded around a mouth of apple.

"Dude, chew," Scott replied, "and you need her."

"Yeah, I need the love of my adolescent life, who has rejected me more times than I can remember, to help me get laid by the human embodiment of a Greek statue." Stiles collapsed back on Scott's bed, covering his face with one of Scott's pillows. "This is a nightmare."

"No, it's great," Scott smiled. "Not only will we get you to lose your virginity to the hottest guy in Beacon Hills, we can make Lydia jealous at the same time." Scott flashed Stiles his patented 'I'm a genius' face.

"Stop that, you look constipated," Stiles answered. "Maybe I should just have sex with Greenberg. That would be so much easier."

"No way," Scott said. "Greenberg's nasty. And weirdly obsessed with Coach. No, I planted my first seed in the finest specimen of woman kind, it is only right that my best friend achieves the male equivalent."

Stiles pulled the pillow away, shooting Scott a disgusted look. "How has Allison not murdered you in your sleep?"

"She loves my dick," Scott grinned.

"Gross."

"Okay, get up," Scott announced. "I may not be Lydia Martin, but even I know that Taco Bell Guy won't fuck you in those clothes."

~o~

"Jesus fucking Christ, Allison!" Isaac yelled, clutching at his nose.

"What?" Allison said innocently.

"I think you broke my nose!"

"This is defence training," Allison laughed. "You're supposed to defend yourself." She wiped her brow and headed inside nonchalantly, calling for her dad as she did so.

Isaac could barely blink the tears out of his eyes before Mr Argent came sauntering out of the house, glass of iced lemonade in one hand and frozen bag of peas in another. "Where's the injured party?" he asked with a faint smile on his lips.

Isaac's face flushed red, as red as his nose already was, as Mr Argent set down the glass and tilted his chin to get a better look at his nose. "Don't feel emasculated," Argent said. "I trained Allison myself, I know how deadly she can be."

"You're a defence instructor?" Isaac gulped, trying his best not to drop his eyes to the low neckline of Argent's v-neck shirt.

"Jujitsu," Argent answered, "but Allison got hooked and has basically studied every legal form of defence on the planet." Isaac could feel Argent's breath on his face.

"Cool," Isaac squeaked, his throat dry.

"Did that hurt?" Argent asked. Isaac shook his head slightly. "Well, good news is, it's not broken. Not even bleeding." He handed Isaac the bag of peas, picked up the lemonade and took a long gulp. Isaac's gaze remained fixed on Argent's bobbing Adam's apple. "Your handsome face will survive another day."  
Oh fuck. That was the wrong thing to say, as all the blood rushed from Isaac's nose down to his groin. Allison came running out at that point, training clothes swapped for a cute dress that showed off her shapely legs, and that wasn't helping Isaac's situation at all.

"Come on," Allison announced, dragging Isaac over to the car. "We're giving Stiles a makeover." The last thing Isaac saw before Allison sped off was Argent's grin hidden behind his glass.

~o~

The one thing Derek insisted on when he came back to Beacon Hills was that he wasn't going to live on campus, and he certainly wasn't having a room mate. His uncle Peter offered to sublet his apartment, a roomy, sparsely decorated loft, while he travelled Europe, and Derek jumped at the chance. Peter's place was the ultimate in solitude, even having an insanely huge intruder alarm.

The problem he had was, on his second night in Beacon Hills, Peter returned.

The last thing Derek needed that night was to deal with Peter's incessant questioning and lack of respect for privacy, but luckily, Peter was already dozing on the couch, half-drunk bottle of beer hanging limply in his hand. Derek ascended the stairs quietly, locking himself in the only room in the place with any kind of privacy, the bathroom. He slouched on the floor, back pressed up against the bath, and took in a deep breath. _You're a sophomore_ , he told himself. _Crushing on a high schooler isn't that weird_. But the Sheriff might see that a little differently. Derek didn't even know if the Stilinski kid was a senior. This was the worst. But that startled face just wouldn't leave his mind.

He needed a cold shower.

~o~

Lydia Martin was in Stiles Stilinski's bedroom, and her arms were folded. She hummed loudly, tilting her head from side to side as she took in every angle of Stiles' face.

"Trash it," she said at last, and Allison gleefully dropped the electric razor in the garbage can.

"Hey!" Stiles cried. "That was expensive."

"I doubt that," Lydia scoffed. "You have a good jaw line. Keep your face clean-shaven, but for God's sake, leave your hair alone."

Scott nodded. "Hair pulling, dude. It's surprisingly hot." Allison winked.

"I hate you all," Stiles muttered.

"What was this guy wearing?" Lydia asked. Scott flashed her the photo from Taco Bell. "Wow. Okay, Stiles, you are banned from wearing leather because you could never look that good in it."

"My confidence is sky-rocketing."

"Red," Lydia continued. "Red hoodie, tight t-shirt to show off your lacrosse muscles, low slung jeans."

"Really?" Allison asked.

"Well, this guy's rocking the tight pants look. Low slung is the other way to direct all attention to your crotch. Now," she said as Stiles' face rapidly reddened. "Do you wear glasses?"

~o~

"What the hell happened to you?" Sheriff laughed as Stiles sheepishly stumbled downstairs.

"Lydia gave me a hipster makeover," Stiles grumbled. He tripped again. Lydia had given him Aiden's glasses ("he looked dumb in them, so I made him get contact lenses") and now everything a foot away from him was edged with a gentle fuzz. At least he didn't have to look at the copious amounts of hair gel Isaac had used to spike his hair.

"The things you do for that girl," Sheriff sighed. He reached for a bag of chips, but Stiles' glare couldn't be hidden by the thick black rims, and he reached for an apple instead. "The glasses are no excuse for mowing Derek down today."

"Hmm?"

"Derek, the guy you barrelled into in your Taco Bell fury? He's the intern I told you about, from BHU."

Oh shit.


End file.
